The Envelope That Changed Everything

the windows, letting salt air roll through the house. I set up my easel and painted without thinking about outcome or audience.

This was my late season.

Not an ending.

A bloom.

I once believed my worth was measured by what I gave up. By how much I endured. By how deeply I disappeared for the sake of love.

Now I know better.

Worth is claimed.

Truth costs. continue reading …